


a dream is a wish your heart makes

by Badfaith



Category: Homestuck
Genre: FTM Karkat, Gender Dysphoria, Humanstuck, M/M, Wet Dream, islandBent, self harm mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 12:06:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1604564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badfaith/pseuds/Badfaith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With that same dark chuckle he used for dirty throwaway lines, Edmund caught his mouth in a startling lunge and halted all efforts at squirming. In the dream, his lips weren’t chapped. They were soft like they’d been during so many of his visits, and they were fucking glorious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a dream is a wish your heart makes

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place in the islandBent universe, which is an AU where a bunch of humanstucks get stranded on an island.

Kyle never thought he’d grow to miss the off-key orchestra of screeching tires and crackling stereos of L.A. The noise, like the crowding, was pretty much inescapable, at least in the part of L.A that Kyle and his dad lived.

Who would have thought that inhabiting a lush island with crystal clear blue water and idyllic white sand happened to be a billion times worse than that for a whole lot of reasons. But the most pertinent one right now was the noise. It was like a constant stream of the background tracks they played at zoos remixed with enough Enya to offend a Burning Man attendee. Kyle was sure that he was laying awake, listening intently to the sound of hundreds of insects fucking or something equally nightmarish.

“I feel like I’m being anally probed by nature” he announced to his  friend, who was squashed right up against him  with his head half obscured by his stupid (and now quite filthy) purple cape. “Without lube”.

Kyle thought Edmund looked a lot like a sleeping bird with it’s head tucked under it’s wing, even down to that lighter bit of fluff of the top of his head. He watched the faint breeze ruffle that fluff gently, in time with the white noise of crashing waves in the distance. The close proximity was nothing new. They were the type of friends that slung themselves over each-other like puppies when they watched a movie.. And hell, they were sleeping in a hole. Context was everything.

“You've got mad B.O, buddy”, he grunted, reaching out to sweep some dirt off the crumpled windbreaker he was using as a makeshift pillow. But Kyle knew he was no better off himself. He needed to sneak out soon to get another bath.

Kyle waited for a response, but after a few minutes craweled by with no reply he assumed Edmund had really fallen asleep. Actual sleep. A full REM cycle, probably. His tanned face was slightly red with the last remnants of the sunburns which had looked so severe only a few weeks prior. Half drowned and almost dead of heat stroke, Edmund had recovered to become one of the most annoyingly useful people on the island, and he didn’t mind reminding people of that. His mouth, which was usually cranked up in an embittered scowl was set at a downright peaceful line. How does he do that so easily? Kyle had been struggling to get a halfway acceptable amount of sleep on this shitstain of an island since the very start, but Ed didn’t seem to have that problem and conked out whenever he pleased, as if flipping a built in switch.

Not for the first time, Kyle’s eyes lingered way too long on Edmund’s idiotic eyelashes, loathsome cheekbones and retardedly soft lips. Well, they used to be soft. Now they were badly chapped, unfortunately. On the plus side, he was getting some promising stubble on his neck and chin, those fine dark hairs seem to layer perfectly and get lighter as they went down, as if some artist was swiping them out carefully with 2B pencil.

_You pretty asshole_  the boy growled inwardly, feeling that familiar anxious tension tighten his throat and stiffen his neck muscles. Suddenly everything seemed slowed down to half the frame rate, and yes,  he was actually still staring. Kyle’s tongue swiped out nervously to lick his own lips. Holding his breath in as if afraid by some witchcraft it would come out in a loud roar, he began settling down to the floor of the crude shelter, feeling soft moss tickle his ankles and bare toes.

The noise of chirring insects in the background made Kyle feel even guiltier as he very slowly rested his cheek on Edmund’s tightly wrapped shoulder. I’m such a shit bag. I’m such a shit bag. He thought helplessly. I’m the kind of shit bag that people will leave on the curb and risk getting fined for. Just because they don’t want to fucking go near it.

He waited for a few seconds, his heart beat thumping noticeably in his ears as he waited to see if Ed would crack an eye open and throw up a jaunty smirk, which would immediately invalidate him as a good pillowing option. When nothing happened, he sighed in relief and closed his eyes tight. If Ed woke up now, he’d think Kyle had done this by accident.

Sheltered by a tree and padded down with a mixture of moss and every unused piece of clothing from Kyle’s suitcase, the little shelter he had dug wasn’t so bad when he had a snoring pillow, even though he had to be stealthy about acquiring it.

Kyle’s body was so hungry for restful sleep that for the first few hours it didn’t even bother constructing memorable dreams and just cycled bits and pieces of information in a cold wash. Some were painful, too saturated, too red, lexplosions, storm clouds and pitching waves.  Others were vague shapes that came and went in a liquidy blur. His school’s basketball court made an appearance as well as his pitbull Puto’s slobbery grin. And food, of course. Lots of food.

But, a few hours into the night his brain decided to debut the narrative it had been preparing for. Maybe Kyle had finally gotten good enough at feeding himself that his body felt relaxed enough to pursue it’s other interests.His brain had all the memories, guilty thoughts and smells it needed to perform without the slightest bit of argument.

Kyle was convinced he was awake when Edmund rolled over on top of him. The other boy’s pale skin was milk-white as the moon washed all the color clean out of him.  The dream even remembered to fracture and split the light with twiggy shadows, as if it were coming down through the thick sticks that covered Kyle’s shelter. (Proudly dubbed the Kyle Cave by no one but Kyle himself, and Gerard, who humored him without fail). Ed’s muscular shoulders bunched, just like the many times Kyle had seen them do so when Ed was about to launch into a dive, but this time the posture was employed to fall into a hunting crouch. That terrible smirk was back too. That smirk that confirmed Ed’s belief that his dick was dynamite and his cum was rosewater. Kyle usually had to grimace in dread while it was continually aimed at girls who wanted nothing to do with it.

Then, Ed spoke.

“Sleepin on me, ky”? he said. He didn’t lick his lips, but Kyle could see him do it.  “You’d be better off findin a different way of executin it”.

At the moment his constantly shifting hazel eyes had to be more on the blue side, because they were even lighter than his skin and bright as National Geographic photos of the Milky Way. In the dream, Kyle didn’t have to stop looking at them after the clock ran down, in fact he had no choice but to keep looking because Ed was pinning him down. Not just pinning him down, straddling him, his his hands firmly pressed on Kyle’s arms.

What are you talking about?, his dream self must have said in so many words, even though he knew where this was going, in that innate way people just knew things in dreams. In this case, the knowledge was comforting and made his fingertips and toes feel tingly with pent up possibility.

“I like this better” Edmund said in a soft voice, looking down at him with purpose. He loosened his grip only to find it again, like a cat sheathing and unsheathing it’s claws. “Bein’ on top”.

He seemed to bear down with his midsection, just to make Kyle more aware of the junction where their bodies were meeting, but Kyle was already aware. Very aware. So aware that he had begun to squirm. Was there a sexy equivalent to having butterflies in your tummy? If there was, that was currently his life story.

With that same dark chuckle he used for dirty throwaway lines, Edmund caught his mouth in a startling lunge and halted all efforts at squirming. In the dream, his lips weren’t chapped. They were soft like they’d been during so many of his visits, and they felt so fucking good brushing up against Kyle’s, suckling at his mouth like it tasted incredibly good, even though Kyle knew it didn’t taste like anything other than a mouth.

Kissing was not a problem here either, and Kyle managed to keep up with none of the unsightly slurping or gasping he dreaded in real life, not even flinching when he felt the faint prickle of teeth, or the wet, warm presence of a doggedly persistent tongue. Kyle was so distracted by the kissing that he hardly noticed that Ed was leaning forward at all l until they were grinding against each-other through their clothes, hissing through their teeth with eyes squeezed shut and holding on to each other like the crisis survivors they were.

The rough scratch of stiff denim on denim, and the heat of the hardening flesh underneath it reduced Kyle to a moaning mess. His  wordless complaints were stifled by Edmund’s lips. But dreams had a way of slowing things down so each perceived second could drag out for what seemed like hours. Enduring the heat of that grinding was a particularly torturous experience, and Kyle’s consciousness clawed at it for what seemed like an eternity, before blissfully breaking through.

The scene jumped ahead, and suddenly those calloused fingers were rubbing and pulling at Kyle’s nipples, catching his small breasts in hard, mean palms and squeezing. His dreamself must have made a squeal-like noise because Edmund, being a complete douchebag snickered and he saw the top of the shelter, sporting a lot more sparkles than it usually had.

His binder conveniently deleted by dream logic, the scene skipped in time with heart beats, like a good AMV. Suddenly it wasn’t Edmund’s fingers, it was his mouth that was pulling at sensitive flesh. Kyle whimpered and grabbed handfuls of his friend’s back, scratched at him with blunt, bitten nails Edmund suckled with that crazy-focused intent Kyle had seen him turn on so many subjects. Fae, ships in glass bottles, fishing lines, Fae….. This part stung,  the confusing, suffocating way it did when Kyle touched himself there in real life, but it was a sting he didn’t mind feeling with Edmund. Edmund was safe. He’d understand.  He’d even say…

“It’s ok, ky. You’re fine. You’re ok”.  Just like that, breathed into his ear, with Edmund’s cheek pressed against his, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. And his hands glided down Kyle’s abdomen, hips, thighs, sculpting some vague shape of his best friend’s trembling body. He paused the whole production just to cement that okayness with his words and fingers.  

His dream apparently had enough time to spend on Kyle’s pants, but not Edmund’s. Kyle had to look him the face again, while he ever so slowly slipped his fingers into the waistband of Kyle’s jeans and started to pull them down.Kyle’s thighs were dusted with a thick layer of dark, crisscrossing hair. Kyle was proud of the hair. It had been hard work to grow and  covered up the fading scars that formed a ladder of perfectly even lines down his calves. In his dream, Ed stroked those thighs until he shivered, and only after the third or so audible shiver did the pants come off the rest of the way.

His sentence was fractured but Kyle picked up certain words from Edmund, pinging particularly loudly at just the right frequency. Manly as fuck, for one, utterly fuckin’ gorgeous for another, purred out of the back of his throat.  Kyle wanted more than anything for Edmund to keep talking to him, but since it was a dream, the words stuttered and crackled like a bad VHS tape, and he was too busy aching all over to strain to hear them.

Had Edmund actually been naked this whole time? No, there had definitely been jeans there earlier, but suddenly Kyle could see the wet tip of his dick, and  feel the weight of it pressing up against his soft belly. He hated himself for it, but he had seen it out of the corner of his eye a couple times. Pissing. Changing. Swimming. Stuff like that. Stuff that just happened when you knew someone for that long.

Edmund’s fingers would find his swollen clit first, sift through those thick black curls to get at it and rub it in slow circles until Kyle mewled, all while looking down at him and pinning him in place, this time with his laughing eyes instead of his hands. His eyes, which he knew full well looked like the fucking sea because he picked eye shadow to compliment it, were squinted, partially due to smugness, partially due to shit vision. Yes, he had Nicholas Sparks novel eyes but he was as blind as a headless bat without them.

There was no moment of entry in the dream. In the dream, Edmund was already inside of him and it was just a matter of noticing that it had happened. He filled him up so much better than the pair of sneaky, hooked fingers that usually dipped down while Kyle stared blankly at the wall as if he was looking away from the scene of a demolition. And to complete the analogy, he might sob afterword, the human equivalent of an architectural flaw,  constructed of pain and failure and held up by skilled avoidance.  Here, the crippling wave of anxiety had been entirely skipped over, replaced by tactile tenderness and lust. Ed moved selfishly, because there was no doubt he’d be a selfish partner, but seemed to hit perfectly in places where Kyle always had to contort to reach.

He wanted to do this with him forever, wanted to be held still while those hips snapped over and over and over, and Ed gasped and panted in his ear, like doing this to Kyle was some brilliant culmination of a crush he didn’t actually have. And he wanted to kiss so much that outside the bubble of this dream they would have totally suffocated and passed out cold.

The first thing he noticed when he woke up was how horribly wet he was.

Kyle drank in cool air deeply, even before his eyes blinked open. The sky was lightening, but the sun had yet to fully rise. He felt uncomfortable, sticky and slightly sore, but extremely content at the same time. He didn't’ move until he noticed hot air licking at his cheek and he turned to look, wincing when he realized Ed’s head had surfaced from beneath his cape. He was being breathed on.

“Dragon breathe”, he muttered scaldingly, wiping at his face and feeling the butterflies shrivel up inside his belly. Where they had been was a tired emptiness.

At first Kyle worried irrationally that he had been drooled on as well, but then he realized his face was slick with his own tears. As if still dreaming, his hand rose up sluggishly to wipe them away, and then balled into a tight fist.

  



End file.
